Chapter 2

For our seventh wedding anniversary, I finished my academic exchange in Berlin a week early.

I hadn't told Julian I was coming home. I was carrying a box of pastries from his favorite local bakery, eagerly imagining the thrilled look on his face when he saw me.

Seven years.

We went from college sweethearts to husband and wife.

We had gone from sharing stale bread in a cramped, rented studio to him becoming the youngest tenured professor in the Department of Life Sciences. I had survived every single hardship by his side.

Everyone in our academic circle called us the golden couple.

The cab pulled up in front of our apartment building. I looked up at our window.

The lights were on. He was home.

The moment I unlocked the front door, the unmistakable sounds of heavy breathing and soft moans crashed into my ears.

On the entryway floor lay a trail of discarded women's clothes.

Next to them was a man’s dress shirt—the anniversary gift I had bought Julian just last month.

My brain went completely numb. The box of pastries slipped from my hand, hitting the hardwood floor and bursting open.

Through the half-open bedroom door, two bodies were rolling around on my wedding bed.

My husband, Julian, who claimed he was "working late at the lab," was actually right here, performing a highly primitive "life sciences experiment" with another woman.

"Professor Vance... is... is this the right way to do it?"

"Right there... feel the rhythm... yes, keep track of that sensory feedback..."

Julian's voice was deep, filled with a raw lust and urgency I had never heard before.

I kicked the door wide open.

The girl shrieked, frantically grabbing the duvet to cover herself.

She revealed a panicked, youthful, and pretty face—Chloe Miller, the graduate student Julian always praised as his most promising protege.

Julian reacted even faster. He practically bounced off the bed.

He grabbed his trousers from the floor and scrambled to pull them on.

"Clara?! What... what are you doing here?!"

He was actually demanding answers from me.

Chloe, wrapped in my sheets, began to cry, tears streaming down her face. "Mrs. Vance... please, don't get the wrong idea... Professor Vance was just helping me correct my thesis data. He was guiding my hands-on experiment... we were just doing schoolwork..."

Schoolwork?

On my bed?

As if reminded by her words, Julian straightened his back. His tone turned righteously indignant, as if I were the intruder.

"Clara! Since when did you become so vulgar and unreasonable?! How dare you insult a basic academic discussion with your filthy mind?!"

My eyes fell on a thick copy of *Molecular Biology* tossed on the nightstand—and the corner of a black lace thong sticking out from underneath it.

Suddenly, I laughed.

I was shaking so hard from anger, yet a cold laugh escaped my throat.

"So, Professor Vance," my voice was so calm it terrified me, "your academic guidance requires you to strip naked on our wedding bed?"

Julian’s face flushed red, then turned an ugly, pale color.

Before he could lie further, I unlocked my phone. The screen lit up with a crystal-clear photo: backstage at a major international science conference, Julian and Chloe were locked in a passionate kiss, his hand slid deep inside her formal blazer.

"Why don't you explain this instead?" I stared at his suddenly bloodless face.

"Is this 'academic exchange' which won you the 'best collaborative research award' some new kind of study?"

The air in the room froze.

Right then, Chloe suddenly clutched her mouth, dry-heaving violently as her face turned pale.

Julian lunged forward to hold her. "That's enough, Clara! She’s pregnant! You can’t stress her like this! If you have a problem, take it out on me!"

Pregnant.

Those words felt like an ice pick dipped in poison, stabbing straight into my chest.

How incredibly familiar.

Three years ago, I was pregnant with our child. Because I had spent weeks working late to help him compile his research data, I miscarried from sheer exhaustion.

When I called him from the emergency room, he was in the lab "guiding students." He didn't even pick up.

Later, he only said coldly, "It was a critical moment for my research. Why were you so careless?"

And now, he was cradling another woman's pregnant stomach, screaming at me to protect her.

The last warmth in my heart died right then and there.